Ryan Osentowski – Page 12 – The Conservative Blind Guy

This Cowboy’s Hat

In the wake of Obama’s presidency, I’ve been ruminating on that great big nuclear bomb of politics, race. Before I give you my personal views on race and racism in this country, here’s a snapshot of where we are today.

The media has done Black Lives Matter to death, as well as professional athletes and celebrities who decry the current state of race relations in this country. They are pieces of the puzzle, but they are not the whole

On one hand, we have Professor Michael Eric Dyson of Georgetown University, who recently published the book, “The Tears We Cannot Stop: A Sermon to White America.” A professor delivering a sermon to a large segment of America… What a concept. He is a black man who clearly views everything through the lens of race in this country. I find this view to be limiting, much as I do whenever I meet a blind person who judges every issue they come across through the prism of his/her blindness.

After preaching to white America in his book, Professor Dyson suggests some possible solutions that white folks can adopt in their personal lives in an effort to combat their inherent and latent racism. One of these strategies is what the good professor terms, personal reparations. That is white people donating money to the United Negro College Fund, or other charities geared toward African-Americans.

When I hear suggestions like that, my political spidey sense starts tingling. What I hear is, give us money. I am a big fan of many charities out there and I believe very strongly that people should give of their time and money to those who are less fortunate. So, I tell you what. Find me a charity that supports philosophy in the mold of Thomas Sowell, Clarence Thomas and Walter Williams and I will happily donate.

My issue with Professor Dyson’s book is his premise. He seems to believe that white America is the sole source of the problem. When I hear diatribes such as his, I notice a decided lack of interest in looking inward.

Several years ago, I read a book by Juan Williams called, “Enough: the phony leaders, dead-end movements, and culture of failure that are undermining Black America– and what we can do about it.” It was one of the most enlightening books I have ever read. In short, Williams spring-boarded off of remarks made by Bill Cosby at a 2004 meeting of the NAACP in which Cosby took members of his own community to task for behavior that he felt sabotaged their march toward equality.

Sadly, recent revelations about Cosby’s alleged sexual misconduct toward women in his private life have nullified any credibility he may have had on the issue. But Williams’ credibility is still intact, save for the fact that he works for Fox News. Many blacks would call him an Uncle Tom, conveniently ignoring the fact that he has written many books about the civil rights struggle and the continued plight of the African-American community in this country.

All I can do is heartily recommend that everyone (black, white, brown or yellow) read this book.

On the other side of the fence, we have Sally Boynton Brown, current member of the Idaho Democrat Party and candidate for the position of chairperson of the National Democratic Committee. At a debate the other night, she was responding to a question about Black Lives Matter when she said the following:

“White leaders in our party have failed. We have to accept that we have prejudice within our own party.”

She went on to say:

“My job is to listen to the issues. My job is also to shut white people down when they wanna interrupt. My job is to shut other white people down when they say oh no I’m not prejudice. I’m a Democrat.”

So far, so good. She appears to be doing what I’ve done for years; calling out liberals for the unrecognized bigotry they all carry concealed beneath their cloak of sanctimony. But she doesn’t stop there. A few minutes later, her meaning becomes more crystallized when she addresses the training of new Democrat party operatives:

“We need to teach them how to communicate, how to be sensitive and how to shut their mouths if they’re white.”

I am not taking these remarks out of context. The video is widely available on YouTube and you can see her remarks in full. Despite her protestations to the contrary, she is clearly a politician who is preening and pandering to a segment of voters. Her tone of voice is nothing less than unctuous as she speaks of white privilege and, “People of color.” Frankly, if I were a minority under the banner of the Democrat Party, I would be insulted. And, most important of all, she is not calling for a conversation. A dialogue consists of a reciprocal communication between two or more parties. White people shutting their mouths would result in a monologue; a one-sided communication.

You can draw a causal line from Boynton Brown’s remarks back to those of Attorney General Eric Holder in February of 2009. In his first speech after assuming office, he delivered remarks at the Department of Justice African-American History Program. Here is an excerpt from said remarks:

“Though this nation has proudly thought of itself as an ethnic melting pot, in things racial we have always been and continue to be, in too many ways, essentially a nation of cowards. Though race related issues continue to occupy a significant portion of our political discussion, and though there remain many unresolved racial issues in this nation, we, average Americans, simply do not talk enough with each other about race. It is an issue we have never been at ease with and given our nation’s history this is in some ways understandable. And yet, if we are to make progress in this area we must feel comfortable enough with one another, and tolerant enough of each other, to have frank conversations about the racial matters that continue to divide us.”

I was skeptical when I heard about Holder’s speech. It’s been my experience that, when those of the left use the word, “conversation,” in a socio/political context, they usually mean the exact opposite. A dialogue with a liberal usually transforms into a monologue, with a good deal of imperious finger-wagging in the faces of those who disagree.

When I read the speech in full, I had the benefit of hindsight. Holder’s track record on racial issues prove that my skepticism was well-founded. The best example was his refusal to prosecute members of the New Black Panther Party for their blatant voter intimidation tactics at a polling site in Philadelphia during the 2008 election. The underlying sentiment from many DOJ officials that came out during the ensuing investigation was that the Voting Section of the DOJ wasn’t in the business of prosecuting minorities; ergo, whites have no civil rights worth violating.

I think that Sally Boynton Brown was probably saying the things that Eric Holder was thinking, but was too smart to say. She strikes me as the Sarah Palin type; speak first and think later. The only thing I liked about her remarks was her candor.

Unfortunately, history has taught us that when you live in a country which espouses free speech, and when you tell a segment of the population to shut up, there are consequences. For blacks, said consequences came in the form of Frederick Douglass and Martin Luther King. For women, they were embodied in Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton. Over the past eight years, where racial matters are concerned, white people (particularly conservatives) have been made to feel that, when the subject of race comes up, they should just shut up, smile and nod respectfully and take whatever the other side is dishing out. If they should ask questions or argue, they are then labeled as obtuse bigots.

So what did liberals get for their high-handed attitudes? Donald Trump!

According to Professor Dyson, the only reason Trump won was because of race. This is a simplistic view. Trump won for many reasons, not the least of which were economics. However, I do believe that he flipped a lot of people who are tired of feeling bullied because he addressed certain issues from his self-made bully pulpit that rendered him impervious to the usual charges of racism and bigotry that are routinely hurled against any and all Republican candidates. This is unfortunate. Trump’s brand of candor will be too boorish to result in any kind of substantive racial dialogue. But then, Obama was quite articulate, wasn’t he? Obama was supposed to be the first post-racial president, and things are far more polarized today than they were when he took office.

Sadly, when one extreme gains traction in society, other extremes also gain traction in an attempt to push back. I don’t think it’s a stretch for me to see a cause-and-effect line between Eric Holder and the legitimization of certain members of the Alt-Right such as Steve Bannon and Richard Spencer.

How does race affect me personally? That’s a tough question. I grew up in a whitebread town in the middle of Nebraska. I knew of three black people growing up who were local residents. One of them went to high school with me, but we seldom spoke.

I became more aware of the black culture in college in the ‘90’s. The rendering of the O.J. verdict in 1995 high-lighted the disparity in viewpoints between blacks and whites. When the verdict was broadcast, I sulked in my dorm room, while a group of black students loudly celebrated across the hall. The contrast was very stark.

Sidebar: I intended to blog about the recent O.J. miniseries after watching it, but that project is still on the back burner. Probably because I’m a flamin’ racist.

When I worked at Gallup, I felt at ease while conversing with black and Hispanic employees. One of them was named Tim, who was an ex con. I remember him as a gentle soul who was very polite and friendly to all, including those respondents who abused him on the phones. There was no trace of the stereotypical, “angry black man.”

I met several African-American members of the National Federation of the Blind when I became active in the Nebraska affiliate. Later, when I moved to Denver, I met many more people of varying races and backgrounds. I never felt nervous or out of place.

In 2009, I left a lousy job working for a couple of reprobates who were white. I immediately found a new job working for a black couple. They showed me kindness and warmth while I was in their employ and, unlike my previous employers, they always treated me fairly. We’ve sort of lost touch, but I remember them fondly.

In 2014, I worked for an orientation center for the blind as a summer counselor. My duties included serving as apartment babysitter for three of our male students. Two of them were Hispanic. I don’t remember any racial tension arising from our interactions. Quite the contrary. I enjoyed hearing their music, sampling their cuisine and hearing about their backgrounds. In that same program, we had seven or eight Hispanic students in total, plus one African-American, two students from China and one from Thailand.

I also had one African-American coworker, two Hispanic coworkers, one Ukrainian and one who was Asian. Honestly, the staff didn’t always get along. Some of the staff meetings we held got pretty contentious. But that was due more to issues of personality and ego, rather than race or ethnicity.

Did my students and I have frank conversations about race? No. I was their counselor. They never brought it up and I wasn’t going to force the issue. I learned more just by listening as they occasionally talked about their families in Mexico. I didn’t stay quiet out of intimidation, but because I was learning. Would I have conversations with them about race today? Sure, as long as it was a true dialogue.

I don’t think I’m a racist. I really try my best to take people as I find them, regardless of what political or social narrative larger forces try to spin around them. If I met a woman of a different race and fell in love with her, I wouldn’t acknowledge any racial barriers. I would gladly break bread with those of other races on any social occasion as long as I was welcome. Of course, my saying that I’m not a racist doesn’t make it so. Richard Spencer probably doesn’t think he’s a racist either. Some pundits would argue that I am racist merely because I’m white and therefore benefit from white privilege. I flip such people the bird. I know my own mind and heart and try my best to let my daily conduct speak for itself.

How do we solve the racial polarization that has left our country fractured? My answer is, we don’t.

I’m not being defeatist. I believe that racism and tribalism will always be a part of the human condition. I believe that it is a tragic flaw that is inherent to our species. Tribalism has existed for thousands of years and I don’t see any signs that it will get better. The 20th century has seen the advancement of mass communications with the advent of the telephone, the radio, the television and the internet. Yet, rather than bringing us closer together, we seem further apart in many respects.

Does that mean we simply wallow in the muck of racism and racial politics? Hell no! I don’t believe we can simply flip a switch and make prejudice disappear. All we can do as individuals is to make our own corner of the world a little better.

How do we do this? It starts with Eric Holder’s speech, which may contain more kernels of truth than he meant for it to. We start by holding frank conversations with those of other races about our situation. I emphasize the word, conversation; a two-way dialogue. We also start socializing with each other more. Think of that cheesy yet effective scene at the end of the movie, “A Time to Kill,” when the black kids and the white kids are playing together. I think this reality already exists to a point, but it’s obviously not yet large enough to eclipse the angry drumbeat of media and professional race agitators who cling to a more convenient and self-serving narrative.

Sidebar: That heart-warming, climactic moment at the end of the movie was pure Hollywood. The original Grisham novel did not contain such a scene. “A Time to Kill,” is the only Grisham story that I enjoyed. The movie is a mostly faithful knock-off of the book. Samuel L. Jackson’s, “You one of the bad guys, Jake!” speech echoes the sentiments of Professor Dyson.

Yes, by all means, let’s have a chat about race. But why stop there. I honestly think that if most people of divergent races really got together, they’d figure out they have more in common than not. Why not talk about the NFL, NBA, food, clothes, Jay Z or Chris LeDoux? Remember his song, “This cowboy’s Hat?” How about a cowboy hat summit across the nation? I didn’t vote for Obama in either election and I didn’t support his agenda, but he and I could talk about The Wire or Al Green if we ever clink beer mugs.

The problem with this approach is that it’s too slow. We now live in an instant gratification culture. It has become too commonplace for people of all ages and of all political stripes to look to their government for quick fixes. They want a leader to come along and wave some magic wand that will make all of the ugliness of humanity disappear. This is why the left loved Obama. They thought he was a transformative figure. Many on the right see Trump in the same way, though I believe that our camp is a bit more divided.

There is no cure-all law or policy that can bridge the gap. Brown vs. Board of Education was a righteous decision, but it doesn’t change hearts and minds. Neither did LBJ’s Great Society, affirmative action or bussing.

No politician, activist or spiritual figure has all the answers. It’s no coincidence that when the followers of a leader realize that very basic truth, said leader loses popularity with his or her flock.

With respect to President Obama, if he was supposed to be the first post-racial leader, he fell down in spectacular fashion. If Obamacare was his signature issue during his first term, then race should’ve been the corner stone of his second. Maybe my memory is bad, but I only remember him speaking in a reactionary, rather than a proactive fashion. The 2009 Beer Summit was a good start, but as it turned out, it was a false start.

When the incident with Trayvon martin occurred in 2012, he had plenty to say, but there was no follow-up. He certainly had plenty to say after Ferguson, Baltimore, New York City and Baton Rouge, but his attitude at his press conferences and his approach to the issue seemed detached. By any yardstick of success I can apply to these various situations, Obama’s policy on racial healing in America was an abject failure.

Trump isn’t going to be any better. Hell, he might even be worse. As I write this, he’s penned an executive order to build a wall. This will only inflame the immigrant communities. As for domestic relations, I don’t see Trump holding any kind of a beer summit with Al Sharpton or the heads of Black lives Matter. He’s just not built that way.

If a forward-thinking president really wants to start a meaningful conversation about race, he/she needs to conduct a national beer summit. The president needs to initiate a multi-city tour. The tour needs to visit locations as diverse as the inner cities of Boston (the most segregated city in the country), as well as Baltimore, D.C., Chicago, Miami, San Francisco, Phoenix, Philadelphia, etc. Let me stress that these tours will have to be held in the inner cities; I don’t care if the president has to triple his/her Secret Service detail.

The tour will also have to visit cities like Lincoln, Nebraska, Colorado Springs, El Paso, Montgomery, Salt Lake City and even Boise, Idaho. Secret Service can bring along electrical tape in case Ms. Boynton Brown forgets to keep her mouth shut.

The tour would include, not just the president, but a diverse group of speakers who would join in the conversation. And not just racially diverse, but politically diverse as well. Possible suggestions for the panel would include Professor Dyson, Juan Williams, Condoleezza Rice, Bill Kristol, Colin Powell, Mia Love, Congressman John Lewis and many more. Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton would not be welcome. Local police reps and church members would be encouraged to attend, but the primary focus would be everyday citizens who were interested in a cross-racial dialogue.

Skeptics would call it political theater and charge the president with symbolism over substance. So what? They would do that anyway. But who better to start a national conversation than the president? I don’t know where said dialogue would lead, but if it helped the races to meet on an individual level, wouldn’t it be worth it?

Sidebar: People would assume that a black or Hispanic president would have to take the initiative. Why? If Ben Sasse ever took the White House, I could envision him doing something like this. Wouldn’t a white man benefit greatly from such an endeavor?

In the meantime, I fear that things will only get worse before they get better. History demonstrates that our instincts of tribalism will trump our better nature. I hope I’m wrong, but I don’t think I am. All we can do in the interim is wrestle with those inherent tendencies toward prejudice that we all hold within ourselves and push back against bigotry when we encounter it in our own lives. Tall order, but very possible.

Of Kings and Fried chicken

Social media is full of people who claim to be physically ill at the prospect of President Trump. I believe that the clinical term for this is, attention-seeking behavior. My sister-in-law will correct me if I’m wrong, I’m sure.

People! Seriously! If real world events are making you physically ill, turn off the friggin’ TV, log off the internet and go breathe some fresh air. Take a walk. Get a nice, long hug from a friend or loved one. Watch Big Bang Theory and make yourself laugh. Whatever. But don’t whine and hand-wring on social media hoping someone will say, “Oh, baby! Are you okay?”

President Trump wasn’t my desired outcome. Neither was President Obama…either time. I played my hand and I lost. I got over it. The day after election, 2012, I sulked in my girlfriend’s bed until 11. Then she kicked my ass into the shower and took me to lunch. By 2 PM, I was over my blue funk. Incidentally, Steuben’s has excellent fried chicken; at least they did four years ago.

I’m not saying elections don’t matter. I’m not saying we shouldn’t be concerned about events larger than ourselves. What I am saying is that we should not allow external events to dictate our own personal happiness and well-being.

And for those of you drama addicts out there, GET THE HELL OVER YOURSELVES!

One final thought. Trump is a president, not a king. If you want a distraction from the relentless inauguration coverage, go refresh yourselves on the Constitution. Learn why we have certain checks and balances in place that will not allow President Trump to do whatever he wants unchecked.

That is all. I’m gonna go distract myself now with a generous helping of BBQ ribs.ocial media

The Rocking Horse People Strike Back

I’m gonna say something that will offend many of you, but I don’t care.

The Beatles are vastly overrated!

Alexa was playing Beatles music at lunch and I casually mentioned that they are overrated. My crazy Wiccan coworker was incensed.

“Those are words that are never used in my house,” she boomed.

Look, I’m sorry if the truth hurts. The Beatles may have been a cultural phenomenon back in their day, but musically, they are mediocre at best.

Seriously. Their harmonies aren’t that tight. John can barely sing. Paul was a little better, but only a little. Ringo was a boring, unimaginative drummer. George was probably the best musician of them all, but I would categorize his guitar playing as only pretty good.

They were kind of in their element in the early years when they were making girls squeal with such bubble gum fare as, “Please Please Me.” I kind of feel their middle-era stuff like, “No Reply.” But when we get to the, “I am the Walrus,” stage, I can’t take any of it seriously. The only reason their legions of fans don’t recognize their music as drug-fueled self-parody is because most of them (though not all) were nibbling the bark off of trees right along with the Fab Four.

Now, I know what some of you are gonna say. “Ryan, how dare you criticize such a transformative period of enlightenment as the 60’s? Donald Trump is about to be our president! No comparison!”

People! Trump is a product of the ‘60’s. Spray that truth on the back of a stamp and lick it off.

I can also anticipate another argument. “Ryan, you’re a product of the ‘80’s, when Michael Jackson was king. Spray that one in your hair and light it on fire!”

Ok, fine! But putting the pedophilia stuff aside (which happened in the ‘90’s, by the way), Michael had real, honest-to-God talent. Just because he was as crazy as a crack house rat doesn’t mean he wasn’t musically gifted.

Not everything that came out of the ‘60’s was bad. Gim’me The Stones. Gim’me The Who. Gim’me The Doors. Gim’me Adam West as Batman and Sean Connery as James Bond! But don’t give me “Octopus’s Garden,” or I’ll force feed you a marshmallow pie.

I’ll throw you Beatles loyalists one concession. I do love the song, “Let it Be.” I much prefer the quiet, personal spirituality of Paul McCartney to the self-indulgent utopianism of John Lennon’s, “Imagine.” Plus, the piano is very moving.

The real purpose of this post is to see whether or not I can make my mellow pal Dan mad. I already got his hackles up when I slammed, “Alice’s Restaurant,” last Thanksgiving. If my clever plan works as it should, I will get to sleep in on Saturdays from now on.

Fire Down Below

So I’m sitting at the Littleton Cafe the other morning (my home away from home) and Oscar, the friendly waiter, brings me my breakfast of a double bacon cheeseburger. I tell him, “Osk, you forgot the jalapenos. I can’t eat this without them.”

He apologizes profusely and quickly brings me a large side of jalapenos. I put all of them on the burger along with some onions, then splash my seasoned breakfast potatoes with a liberal amount of Cholula sauce. There was a time when Oscar would’ve stood by with a fire extinguisher, but he’s used to it by now.

It seems that, as I’ve gotten older, my palate has become far less sensitive to flavor and I need to compensate by spicing things up more than a little bit.

I made my breakthrough in the summer of 2014 when a couple of my students introduced me to a miracle liquid called, Tapatío. Life was never the same after that. We would pass around a big bowl of popcorn at our Friday night card games and Martin or I would sprinkle a generous amount of Tapatío over the popcorn. Some of the students would partake. Others would not. Still others would take a few bites, then quickly leave the table, breathing heavily and grunting in agony.

I’m not embellishing. I brought home a bag of those wimpy buffalo wings from Wal-Mart one night. After we cooked them, this poor kid ate two of them, then stood up and began pacing around the living room. Soon, he was breathing copiously and yelping as if there was a live cobra crawling around loose in his underwear. I had to convince him that water is the worst thing you can drink when you’re in pain from a spicegasm. Luckily, we had milk on hand and it soothed his scorched throat.

Let me pause here to explain that cooking for Mexican students can sometimes be a challenge when you’re a meat-and-potatoes gringo from the middle states. I made them chili one night and was very proud of myself. I figured I’d make it interesting for them by throwing in an entire jar of jalapenos. My three students, all growing boys, ate one bowl and then said, “Ryan, that was so good that I can’t eat anymore.” Now, these are the guys who always cleaned their plates three and four times over, so I silently called bullshit and resolved to learn how to make authentic Mexican chili.

Us white people have it all wrong. You don’t concoct chili by browning hamburger and putting it in a Crockpot with canned tomato sauce, canned diced green chilies, canned kidney beans, pickled jalapenos and chili powder. Turns out that you have to include ingredients such as real steak or pork, raw jalapenos (not pickled), fresh tomatoes, garlic, cumin, freshly-soaked beans and (here’s the kicker) raw chipotle or habanero peppers. There seems to be some controversy as to whether or not beans should be included in “real chili.” I admit it…I’m not man enough to try it.

My coworkers get annoyed because I place an order for spicy Indian or Thai food. When I get it, I always admonish the order-taker, “You forgot to make mine spicy.” “NO I didn’t!” they always retort.

Then, there’s my family. At a recent Christmas dinner, my brother grilled some chicken tenders for me and smothered them with habanero barbecue sauce. I ate the chicken greedily, then washed it down with a cold draft.

“Ryan,” my brother said. “I can barely eat those things, but you powered through them without breaking a sweat.”

I silently called him a wuss as revenge for all those times he kicked my ass in our family room growing up.

I’ve even won the Blazin’ Challenge at Buffalo Wild Wings. It wasn’t easy. I’ll admit that I suffered, but I did it. My suffering wasn’t as dramatic as my pal Joe’s. He finished his 12 wings, then put a napkin over his face and began to shriek. You’d have thought that the CIA had attached wires to his hangie-down parts and cranked up the voltage.

As a man past 40, you’d think my stomach would revolt at such abuse, but spicy food doesn’t generally tend to give me heartburn. People often warn me that this or that spicy concoction will send me to the toilet with fire erupting from my lower aperture, but it never happens.

There is one thing that I’m deathly afraid of. You know that spicy mustard you always get with your Chinese food order, whether you asked for it or not? I don’t know what it’s called, but I’m sure one of you will enlighten me. Well…I can’t go near it. It makes my sinuses tingle just thinking about it.

By the way, if you’re wondering why I overdid it with both jalapenos and onions on my burger, it’s because Marty wasn’t available to kiss. But Mags, my cat, wouldn’t even come near me.

This weekend, I’m going to make homemade burgers. A coworker gave me a bottle of Ghost Pepper Salt as a Christmas gift. Will I endure? Watch this space for the answer.

Love

What is love?

It’s not the crap we hear about in pop music, read about in books or watch unfold on the movie or TV screen. That is superficial love. I mean real love. What is it? I’m not the smartest guy in the room by a long shot, but after nearly 42 years of living, I am beginning to figure it out.

Love is when you hold your partner in your arms, rather than turning away in disgust, when they are too sick to control their bodily functions.

Love is putting a piece of your paycheck into a savings account for your kid, even when it means you’ll have to skip McDonald’s for a month.

Love is comforting your sobbing mate at three in the morning because they just lost someone important to them and you’re the only one they can turn to, even though you have to be up in three hours for work.

Love is going to your parents’ 50th wedding anniversary party, even though you may have better things to do.

Love happens at that worst moment in a fight when you and your partner are screaming at each other and you storm out of the house, but through the white hot anger, you know you’ll be back.

Love is rescuing an animal from a shelter and treating it like a member of the family.

Love is a soldier in a foreign land, fighting for their home thousands of miles away.

Love is when your mate does you wrong and you have them dead to rites, and you choose to forgive them.

Love is standing in a hospital, feeling your heart break as you decide to take someone off of life support because you can’t stand to watch them suffer one minute longer.

Love is the easiest thing to say and the hardest thing to do.

Love is the universal thing that everyone needs.

Love is the thing that some people have.

Love is the thing that too few of us know how to truly give.

Polish Pool

So I wanted to get this post about 2016 written. But here’s my problem. Marty has me handcuffed to the bookcase; my bed doesn’t have a headboard. We were all set to take our relationship to a new level, but then she accidentally dropped the key and Monty swallowed it. So now, we have to wait about 24 hours for him to poop out the key before I can get loose. So I’m using dictation to sum up this past year.

The fiasco with the key seems to encapsulate 2016 very well. It’s like starting out trying to get a cheap thrill, but in the end, someone has to take a crap before you can find true relief.

Actually, 2016 held a lot of high notes for me. The Broncos won Super Bowl 50 and I became a life-long fan. It didn’t really surprise me that my loyalty would be tested so early. I knew this was gonna be a transition year, but who the hell knew we wouldn’t even make the play-offs? I guess Von Miller gets the last laugh, which will carry him all the way to the bank.

My former coworker gave me a beautiful and lovable kitty that I named, Mags. She is everything a cat owner could want. She is cuddly, uses her litterbox, doesn’t eat too much and doesn’t try to play with me when I’m sleeping. I wonder if I could train Marty with those same habits?

I also started an old-time radio podcast. For those of you who have listened, thank you. For those of you who have yet to listen, give it a try. It can’t be any worse than watching Real Mafia Housewives.

In September, I was honored to attend the marriage of my longtime friend Alicia to her husband Mark. Alicia has been through some hard times, but it really warmed my heart to witness as she and Mark gave their lives to each other before God. Life wasn’t so kind to my pal Wes, who was involved in a pedestrian vs. auto accident last April. His knee was injured and he’s still dealing with some PTSD from the encounter. He’s had about as much fun dealing with the medical and legal fall-out as a man would have taking a walk through Chicago without a bulletproof vest. Chin up, Wes. At least your Chiefs are gonna make the play-offs.

I was also honored to be elected as secretary of the Denver Chapter of the National Federation of the Blind of Colorado. Dan Burke is a smart guy. He knew the only way to force me to pay attention at the meetings was to make me responsible for the minutes. Does this mean I have to quit mixing Bailey’s with my coffee? I hope not.

Many of you know that I began a relationship with Marty Rahn about nine months ago. Marty has a tender heart, an agile mind, a courageous spirit and the patience of a teacher. I love her.

Sadly, this year has brought challenges for Marty. In May, she stepped into a hole at work while walking Monty and broke her foot. She had to undergo surgery to get a pin to reinforce the broken bone. During her recovery, she began to experience severe numbness and tingling in her body. After a series of tests, she was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. The M.R.I. also detected three benign tumors; two on her carotid artery and one at the base of her skull.

It is a scary time for both of us right now. For the past two days, she has been experiencing intermittent dizzy spells. Getting answers from her doctors is like trying to go bowling in a herd of elephants. She has been prescribed Gilenya and it has helped, but we fear more surgeries lie ahead. All we can do now is ask for everyone’s prayers as we continue to chart these unknown waters.

In lighter news, I was accused of sexual harassment at work. There is no punchline. It really happened. My angry feminist coworker didn’t like something I said, so she ratted me out to the boss. I consider this to be a badge of honor. In this postmodern age of Donald Trump and Bill Clinton, I think we’ve learned that sexual misconduct is actually an attribute on one’s resume. You know how in the movie Ted, when the bear keeps getting promoted every time he does something naughty at work? Well, my boss gave me a raise this year. I can only conclude that he secretly approved of what I did.

I should feel guilty for writing that, but I’ll go watch the female Ghostbusters reboot and cleanse my guilt.

Speaking of Trump, I’m not going to write a lot about the election, mostly due to the fact that I’ve already written about it ad nauseam. I will only say that it’s dispiriting to me *though not surprising) to see Democrats willfully refuse to understand why they lost the election. The combination of a fatally flawed candidate, shifting demographics and bad polling lead most people *including me) down the wrong path. I did not vote for Trump, but I accept him as our president and am glad to see that the Republican agenda will have a chance to move forward.

Politics wasn’t all bad this year. In April, I had the chance to participate in the process by attending the state Republican convention. I’ve also moved away from most talk radio and have gravitated toward conservative thinkers who express themselves through the written word. For those of you who will need a strong dose of sanity throughout the next four years, read the National Review and the Weekly Standard. Conservative stalwarts like Jonah Goldberg, Bill Kristol, Amanda Carpenter and Ben Shapiro have been beacons in an otherwise gloomy populist landscape. And for those of you who think that all politicians are bad, please follow Nebraska Senator Ben Sasse on Twitter or Facebook.

2016 saw the deaths of many celebrities. The ones that peaked my interest were Glenn Frey, Harper Lee, Nancy Reagan, Merle Haggard, Kenny Baker, (aka R2D2), Gene Wilder, Holly Dunn, Florence Henderson, John Glenn, George Michael, Carrie Fisher and Debbie Reynolds.

Special note for Antonin Scalia, who’s untimely death high-lighted the polarized D.C. electorate. I’ll see you in hell, Fidel! Trying to rationalize with Castro supporters is like trying to play a game of pool against a Pollock. You confidently walk up to the table with your pool cue in hand, only to discover that the Polack is carrying a pool noodle.

Is anyone reading this a fan of the original Law & Order series? Steven Hill, who played the first (and funniest) D.A., Adam Schiff, on that series, died this year. Is anyone reading this a fan of the cop show, Homicide? Jon Polito, who played Crosetti, the first character to die on that series, also passed away. Also, a respectful nod to the memory of Curtis Hanson, who directed one of my favorite movies, L.A. Confidential.

In the personal loss column, Nehemiah Hall succumbed to cancer last Spring. He and I weren’t close, but many of my friends cared for him. I was truly shocked and saddened at the sudden passing of Ahimsa Wishneski. She and I were forming a friendship, all be it an online one. I hope someone finds that Merle’s gift card I gave her for her CCB graduation and puts it to good use.

Another friend left Denver in the person of Beth McGarr. My pal Drew and I reconnected in a heartfelt conversation at, of all places, a casino. Robin and I have also reconnected. Drew and Robin have reconnected. Special thanks to Katy for introducing me to the Joe Pickett novel series, written by C. J. Box. Art is still the best listener ever.

Many people seem to treat 2016 as if it’s a living entity. I don’t buy it. Life is what we make it. If you want 2017 to be better than 2016, go out there and make it happen. Don’t rely on external events that are out of your control to reinforce your happiness. This is a personal challenge I make to myself as well as everyone else. Happy New Year.

Monty is sniffing me and his whiskers kind of tickle. 22 hours until the key reappears.

Wait! That’s not Monty. Oh whoa ho ho whoa!!! Marty just found the feather duster. I gotta go!

One and Done

I was listening to my favorite radio talk show the other day and the host was interviewing a firebrand atheist named David Silverman. He was touting his new book, Fighting God.

Now, look…I am not the strong Christian I once was. I believe there’s a god. I’m not an atheist or even agnostic, but I’m not entirely sure humans have the first clue as to God’s true intent. We’re just too friggin’ small and he’s too vast. I can only say that it feels very much as if God has abandoned us of late.

But this guy Silverman came on like a Sherman tank, seeking to shred every religious person under his merciless treads. The basis of his message is that religion is a lie. God is a lie. Atheism is the only real truth.

Yes, I’m wavering, but he did and said nothing to persuade me toward his cause. I couldn’t help but notice how angry the guy sounded. Think about it. Here’s a guy who puts up a billboard that says, “Make Christmas great again. Skip church.”

Atheists are the ultimate purveyors of nothing. They work harder than anyone I know to promote the fact that there is nothing waiting for us on the other side. No reward. No punishment. No retrospective of life. We are truly one and done.

No wonder this guy sounded so angry. How can you pay it forward when the road ultimately leads to nowhere? But more to the point, his tone echoed that of every other atheist I’ve ever encountered. I met a guy a few months ago at a social engagement. He never asked me about my beliefs or worldview, but he couldn’t wait to start explaining to me why America was better off if we followed the policy of a strictly secular government. His tone was no different than an evangelist preaching at my door. He was going to convince me at all cost and if I didn’t believe, I was bound for the hell of ignorance.

Look, I get it. Millennials are turning away from church in record numbers. Organized religion is a manmade construct, religion breeds violence, God is a metaphor for male dominance, bla bla bla!

Therefore, what? If not God, then what? Or who? Sorry, guys, but “It’s all a big nothing,” just doesn’t work for me either.

In one sense, I see how atheism can be comforting. If you belong to the church of no, you’re taking far less of a risk than saying yes to something. The church of no is indeed seductive. No God. No rules. No consequences. No hope.

No thanks.

E Is For Elope

The following is a guest post, submitted by Lenore from Sioux Falls. Here she is, writing from room 209 of the Castle Hotel.

I will not add any preamble or post script, except to say that I am not, nor have I ever been married. If others with more knowledge or experience would like to speak to this issue, your comments are most welcome.

Here is Lenore:

Years ago on an old blog, Ryan posted an entry titled “The top 10 lies people tell themselves.” Inspired by that entry, and my own marriage, I am now writing “The top 5 lies told to the bride and groom about their wedding day.”

Before I begin, I feel the need to make two disclaimers. The first is, I acknowledge that I am speaking in generalizations. The statements I’m about to make do not apply to all people or all weddings. The second is that I realize the tone of what I’m about to write may sound as if I don’t favor marriage. Given that I am married, nothing could be further from the truth. I do indeed favor the institution of marriage. I would be remiss, on the blog of the conservative blind guy, if I didn’t also state for the record that I’m talking about traditional marriage, between one man and one woman. I stand in awed wonder that I’ve found someone I love enough to make those vows to, and that loves me enough to make them to me. Even as I type with my wedding ring on my left hand, I have trouble rapping my mind around this. In short, this is not an anti-marriage entry. It is, however, a commentary on the darker side of wedding planning, and weddings in general. So, with all that said, here are the top five lies told to the bride and groom about their wedding day.

5. “I’ll help you with anything you need.”
While many people do want to help, most want to help with the things that are considered fun, convenient for them, or that land them in the middle of the glitz and glamour of the wedding day itself. For example, people are quite eager to go dress shopping, stand up with a couple, or take pictures. However, when the couple starts asking people to help with running needed errands before the wedding, or to assist in the bureaucratic process of changing one’s name after the wedding, most family and friends will suddenly find reasons why they are too busy and don’t have time to help after all. The reality is that these things are not fun, not convenient, and there’s no glory for the person helping. They are the inconvenient and unglamorous necessities that come with a wedding and a marriage, but which the bride and groom may need assistance with all the same.

4. “I don’t’ want anything in return for my help.”
Again, most people are well-meaning. However, most also do, consciously or not, want something in return for the support they give a couple. This is not usually related to money. Perhaps it would be easier to deal with if it were, and if thanks could be shown in the form of some cash or a gift card. Unfortunately, in return for their assistance, people usually want one of two things: public recognition, or a say in the decisions that are made surrounding the wedding. When the couple doesn’t give these things, or doesn’t give them to a person’s satisfaction, drama is likely to occur.

3. “It’s your wedding, you shouldn’t have to do all the work.”
No matter how much work a couple is able to delegate to other trusted individuals, weddings are exhausting. The exhaustion seems to start about a month before the ceremony actually happens, and is at its worst during the days before and after. Even when other people are supposed to be the ones playing host/hostess, in the end it’s the bride and groom who are still responsible for ensuring that everyone else around them remains happy, appeased, and has what they need and want.

2. “It’s your day, do things how you want them done.”
I can’t tell you how many times my now-husband and I heard this line, told someone what we wanted, and then were immediately told why that was wrong and we shouldn’t do it that way. Even when the bride and groom give their reasons why they may want something done in a specific way, there is always some well-intended person who find something to criticize about what the couple wants, and thinks they have a better suggestion. This leaves the couple with one of two choices. They can stand firm and have their day as they wish, but risk the anger or hurt feelings of family and friends when their advice is not taken. Alternatively, a couple may cave in to pressure in an effort to keep the peace and avoid the drama, but give up having “their day” as they wanted it. In the end, it’s an exercise in strategy and tactics, and picking battles on a near daily basis.

1. “It’s your day, it’s all about you.”
The wedding day is, in fact, not about the couple getting married at all. Even the bride and groom initially try to convince themselves of this one, because if recognized for the lie that it is, not nearly as many people would put themselves through the stress of planning and carrying off a wedding. Certainly society tries to convince themselves of this, in part because it’s the lie that drives America’s multi-billion dollar wedding industry. The truth is that the wedding day is about the family, friends, and acquaintances of the couple. It is done to give those people something to attend, to remember, and to talk about. (Particularly remember, as the bride and groom will likely not remember 95 percent of that day, even when they look at their pictures later.) For the couple, it is about the end result, that they are married in the eyes of God and society. A big, (or even medium-sized) ceremony/reception is not needed to achieve this result. It is, however, seemingly needed for the rest of society to view a couple as having legitimately gotten married.

As stated earlier, I am not anti-marriage. Bottom line though: Eloping is a wonderful thing that I now dearly wish I had done, and would advise any couple who wishes to avoid stress and drama to do as well!

Valse Triste

After nine years of patience, I finally saw No Country for Old Men last night.

This movie should’ve had everything for me; a crime thriller headlined by Tommy Lee Jones and Josh Brolin, a west Texas backdrop, a murderous psychopath, an old-fashioned sheriff, a briefcase full of money and a drug deal gone bad. A recipe for happiness for a guy like me.

Sadly, I was underwhelmed. I don’t get it. The critics love it. Fans love it. Rotten Tomatoes loves it. What’s wrong with me?

It wasn’t a bad movie. I just wasn’t blown away. I didn’t feel that emotional gut punch that I get from really great movies.

When I watched The Godfather, I understood the hype immediately, and that was long before we got to the climactic bloody baptism montage scene. Same goes for The Departed. How can you hate a movie in which the final line isn’t a line at all, but rather, the spit of a silenced gun blowing a guy’s face off while a rat crawls around? I was a bit cooler toward Goodfellas, but understand why it’s considered a great movie.

But No Country for Old Men was just meh for me. I understand the themes of destiny versus chance as symbolized by the fateful coin toss that serves as the killer’s trademark. But I found Chigurh to be underwhelming. Maybe it’s because I’ve been spoiled by other fictional villains such as Walter White, Tony Soprano and Lorne Malvo.

Malvo makes me think of Fargo, which is also haled as another crime classic by the Coen brothers. I didn’t care for that one either, though I love the TV series knock-off, which is a wonderful example of the student surpassing the teacher.

Maybe the Coen brothers are the problem, or rather, my problem is with the Coen brothers. Sometimes, the best director or writer in the world just can’t make that emotional connection. Steven Spielberg is that way. Whether it’s Indiana Jones or Jaws or even Saving Private Ryan, I just don’t feel that emotional hook that is required of good storytelling. Private Ryan is wonderful at simulating wartime combat, but as a story, it’s kind of thin.

Anyway, I’m done now. Except to say that I also saw Sicario this weekend. Now there’s a film that does indeed live up to the hype. The first 2/3 of it is a standard story about a naive FBI agent plunged into the dark world of the drug culture along our southern border, but the climax elevates everything that came before it.

I guess one out of two ain’t bad. I wonder if Chigurh would agree.

Alligator Dilemma

The official definition of the word, paradox, from dictionary.com:

Paradox: “A statement or proposition that, despite sound (or apparently sound) reasoning from acceptable premises, leads to a conclusion that seems senseless, logically unacceptable, or self-contradictory.”

If that definition has your head spinning, let me illustrate it through example; said example being this past election.

Let’s start with a bunch of angry people in 2008 who feel betrayed by George W. Bush, who operates under the Republican banner. He calls himself a conservative, but he initiates a massive government bail-out of the private sector through the Troubled Asset Relief Program, thereby rejecting free market principles.

Then, Obama is elected in 2009 and pushes through a massive new reform of healthcare. This leads to the rise of a loosely-formed grass roots movement of conservative/libertarian opposition known as, The Tea Party.

The Tea Party proves to be influential in the mid-term elections of 2010 and 2014. This gives them a sense of power, even when they fail to help secure the presidency in 2012 with a so-called, “Establishment candidate,” in the person of Mitt Romney.

However, the movement does give rise to reliably solid conservatives in the form of Ted Cruz, Marco Rubio and Deb Fischer; all of whom prove that conservatism and minorities can go together.

Yet, when a few of these Tea Party favorites try for their shot at the White House in 2015, they are blocked by a man who is demonstrably not conservative.

Donald Trump has been all over the political map. He’s been registered as a Republican, a Democrat, an Independent and as the head of the Reform Party. The Tea Party, founded on rock solid constitutional principles, invests in a man who has none. He has given large sums of money to both Republicans and Democrats. When asked about it he says, “I’m a businessman. I make deals. It’s what I do.”

Trump’s remedy for a porous border, a sluggish economy and the terror threat is simple; “I alone can fix it.” This suggests that the powers of the presidency are akin to those of a king. Obama’s opponents resented his abuse of the executive pen, but now, they squeal with delight at the prospect of the former star of The Apprentice, who seems to have no knowledge of how Washington D.C. works, but who is determined to fix it with a snap of his fingers.

“We’re sick of politicians! We want an outsider!” cry the masses of the disaffected.

And why do people dislike politicians? Very simple. Because they promise the moon, then go to D.C. and they don’t deliver. So, Trump, the grand outsider, plays the politician’s game on steroids by making a series of promises without having any inkling of how he will deliver them.

“We’re gonna make America great again!”

This suggests that America isn’t already great. Up to this point, liberals are usually the ones who claim that America is inherently flawed and that we are not, nor have we ever been a great nation. Conservatives are more likely to champion America as an exceptional experiment in freedom.

Yet, somehow, the two philosophies have flip-flopped. Conservatives claim that Obama has made America not so great, even though we only had two years of total Democrat domination in D.C. Liberals counter Trump’s signature slogan with sudden passion; “America is already great!”

“I’m gonna build a wall and Mexico will pay for it!”

When asked how, Trump bobs and weaves, muttering about tariffs and the confiscation of financial transactions, none of which are rooted in conservative philosophy.

“I’m gonna bring jobs back to this country!”

When pressed on the specifics, he meanders on and on about non sequiturs like China, NAFTA and the evils of free trade in general. Free trade has always been a marketplace principle championed by conservatives.

“I am the law & order candidate.”

All we’re missing is the “duh-duh!” sound from the TV show. He is blatantly pandering to the cops and military who insure our national security, and who comprise a substantial portion of the Republican voting bloc. Another political ploy from the fellow who is not a politician.

Yet, he proposes solutions to threats that would never hold up in a court of law, such as the banning of those who practice Islam from our country. He suggests mass deportations, not only of illegal immigrants, but of their natural born citizen families as well, which is blatantly unconstitutional.

When planted protesters make trouble at his rallies, he eggs on his followers. “Knock the crap out of them. I’ll pay your legal fees, I promise.”

All the while, he sings the praises of Vladimir Putin, leader of an oppressive regime who once fought against the U.S. in the Cold War; a war won by a Republican president.

Despite his obvious shortcomings, his primary supporters remain undeterred.

“He’s a businessman who will get things done.”

Yet, he refuses to release his tax returns that would show us his financial successes and failures. When asked about them he says, “I’m under audit. I will release them when the audit is complete.” An audit does not prevent him from disclosing his tax records, but no one cares.

“Trump will pick the best people!”

Oh, really? His first campaign manager, Cory Lewandowski, is arrested for assaulting a female journalist at a Trump rally. They lie about it and smear her, even though the assault is irrefutably caught on video. Trump claims he will stand by Lewandowski on grounds of loyalty, but quietly fires him later.

His second manager, Paul Manafort, steps down when his suspicious business ties to Russia threaten to become an embarrassment to the campaign.

His third manager, Steve Bannon, is the executive editor of the website, Breitbart.com; a site that was once a bastion of mainstream conservatism, but which has drifted toward the extreme Alt-Right in the wake of the death of its founder, Andrew Breitbart.

“The Donald is a fighter. We need a fighter in Washington.”

And oh, the fights he wages.

He calls Jeb Bush, “Low energy.” He makes fun of Marco Rubio’s penis size. He ridicules Carly Fiorina’s facial appearance. He questions Ted Cruz’s citizenship and accuses his father of having a hand in the Kennedy assassination. He calls Hillary Clinton, “Crooked Hillary,” and hints that he’d like to see her assassinated by the pro-2nd Amendment crowd.

Trump’s propensity for personal attacks over policy differences leads us to another grand paradox. For decades, Republicans have fended off spurious charges of racism, sexism, homophobia and nativism from the Democrats and the mainstream media. Genuinely decent candidates such as George W. Bush, John McCain and Mitt Romney have been unfairly tarred and feathered by the liberal establishment. So the GOP counters it by nominating a man who embodies the very worst Republican stereotypes in grandiose fashion.

Trump launches his campaign by painting all illegal immigrants with a broad brush by calling them drug dealers and rapists. He maligns a female journalist after she asks him a question in a debate that he doesn’t like by targeting her menstrual cycle. He mocks a disabled reporter at a rally. He picks a fight with a Gold Star family of Arabic descent. He questions the objectivity of the judge in the lawsuit against Trump University by targeting his Mexican heritage. He puts out a campaign video with anti-Semitic overtones just days before the general election. And worst of all, a hot mic video surfaces in which he openly brags about grabbing and kissing women without their express consent and getting away with it because of his celebrity status.

There’s only one claim Trump makes during the course of his campaign that seems to hold water.

“We’re gonna win! We’re gonna win big! We’re gonna win so much, you’ll be sick of winning.”

This is certainly true in my case. I was sick of Trump before he won a single primary. And yet, he keeps winning state after state, knocking down his opponents like bowling pins. He goes on to win the Republican nomination in Cleveland with the help of the GOP machine, who intimidates the Free the Delegates movement. He wins the endorsements of most of his enemies, including former hold-out Ted Cruz, after attacking Cruz’s family on social media. And on November 8, he wins the general election, vanquishing Hillary Clinton for a second time.

Why did he win? Despite claims to the contrary, it is not because he was overwhelmingly popular. In fact, it appears that Hillary won the popular vote, while Trump won the Electoral College. After all, Trump has the highest disapproval numbers in presidential memory.

Trump won because Hillary herself was a paradoxical candidate.

It was long assumed in leftist circles that Hillary was entitled to the presidency after Obama vacated the office. Liberals championed her on feminist grounds; the glass ceiling and all that. The fact that she almost certainly enabled her husband, a known sexual predator, was of no consequence. Like the very Trump supporters they disparaged, high-minded liberals bought into the classic political trope; the ends justify the means.

Her years of public service experience would pave the rest of the way. Sure, she had plenty of baggage. Benghazi was troublesome. She wasn’t particularly warm or likeable. Despite an occasional coughing fit, she’s in perfect health.

Never mind that pesky private Email server. Comey cleared her. We love him! No, wait. The investigation’s on again. That bastard Comey is trying to influence the election! Wait…Comey cleared her again. We love him!

No matter. Trump was so boorish that she could easily take him out.

But Hillary did not engender passion among her followers, particularly the millennial crowd. They preferred Bernie Sanders, a 74-year-old socialist who looked like he would be more at home at a Starbucks on a Wednesday afternoon than on a debate stage.

Hillary couldn’t deny the impact that Sanders was having on the campaign, so in true Clintonian fashion, she colluded with the DNC (who is supposed to be neutral) to take down Sanders. She didn’t count on WikiLeaks, who exposed the collusion before the Democratic National Convention.

Yet, Hillary seemed predestined for the White House, gaining the nomination and, more significantly, the endorsement of her former rival. But she did not gain an enthusiastic following, as did The Donald. In the end, she couldn’t do what her predecessor had done by turning out the youth vote.

Post election data seems to confirm that voter turn-out was at a 20-year low in the general contest. Did millennials punish Hillary by staying home? If so, they ultimately punished themselves in yet another paradox.

Many pollsters predicted that Democrats would not only win the White House, but they would take back the Senate as well. This strategy of protest by abstinence backfired. By choosing apathy over action, the Bernie crowd insured that the Supreme Court will see at least one more judge in the Scalia mold. Even if President Trump waffles on his list of conservative judges, the Republican-controlled Senate will not confirm a nominee who is overtly leftist, or even moderate.

This is why we have a system with checks and balances; the same system that prevented Republicans from repealing Obamacare and Obama from replacing Scalia with a liberal judge. This is the same system that angered the low information voters that Rush doesn’t talk about, those who thought that shutting down the government was the best way of achieving leverage.

Mention of Rush makes me think of the media, who played no small paradoxical role in this election.

On one hand, you have traditional print medium such as the New York Times, major TV networks such as NBC and CNN, and weighty internet sites such as The Huffington Post and Politico.

All of these media outlets lean leftward, though they make a pretense at objectivity. All of them covered the GOP primaries with feigned shock and outrage at Trump’s bad behavior, but they did it with a glint in their eye. It’s the same type of glint an avid storm-chaser might have as he watches a tornado glide right over his house and demolish his neighbor’s. He seems horrified, but he’s got his cell phone in his clenched fist, capturing the catastrophe on video, which will appear on his Facebook page tomorrow.

The media loved watching Trump take a wrecking ball to the GOP establishment. They all assumed that Hillary would coast to victory in November. Bernie Sanders was a happy distraction for them, but only a distraction.

After the Cleveland convention, they brought out the big guns.

DONALD TRUMP IS A SEXUAL PREDATOR!!!

DONALD TRUMP DIDN’T PAY HIS TAXES IN THE ‘90’S!!!

VLAD PUTIN LOVES THE DONALD TOO MUCH!!!

OH…SHIT!!!

DONALD TRUMP JUST WON THE PRESIDENCY!!!

This blog proves that I am lousy at predictions, but what the hell. I’ll make another one. The media’s next big push will be:

THE ELECTORAL COLLEGE MUST GO!!! EVERY VOTE MUST COUNT!!!

Yet another paradox. If the Electoral College is abolished, people in New York and San Francisco will be happy, but those in Harlan, Kentucky and Fremont, Nebraska will no longer be represented. You think America is divided now? If the Electoral College falls and America becomes a pure Democracy, this year will look like a garden tea by comparison.

On the other side of the equation, you have conservative media.

Fox News is the big E at the top of the chart. Early on in the primaries, Trump went after Megyn Kelly with guns blazing. Roger Ailes defended her and many other staffers came to her defense, but after a while, all of them (sans Megyn and Bret Baier) became Trump defenders, long before the primaries end.

Trump’s biggest cheerleader by far was Sean Hannity, who hosted interviews with The Donald almost nightly. This is unsurprising, since Hannity has always been the dimmest bulb on an otherwise bright tree.

Bill O’Reilly, who proudly hales from his self-proclaimed, “No-spin Zone,” soft-peddles Trump’s own brand of spin whenever he appears on The Factor. O’Reilly’s lowest moment comes when he suggests that Judge Curiel should recuse himself from the Trump University lawsuit, after Trump questions his impartiality due to his Mexican heritage.

Chris Wallace, who questioned Trump sharply in early debates, soon glad-hands The Donald on Fox News Sunday, punctuating interviews with such assurances as, “You’re gonna like this last question, Mr. Trump. I promise.” In fairness, Wallace was far and away the most even-handed of the moderators between Trump and Clinton during the general election debates.

After the dawn of the primaries, FNC and the other networks were quickly flooded by scores of Trump interpreters. These were people who felt compelled to visit the various news/talk programs and explain what Trump (who always tells it like it is) really meant to say. Such apologists included Newt Gingrich, Rudy Giuliani, Mike Huckabee and Ben Carson. The most striking interpreter was former Secretary of Education, Bill Bennett, who once wrote a tome called, The Book of Virtues.

Sidebar: It won’t be surprising to find many of these interpreters in future cabinet positions.

Then, there was talk radio.

It gives me no pleasure to write this next part, because I was a dittohead up until October of last year when it became clear that Rush Limbaugh was no longer the, “Doctor of Democracy,” or, “America’s Truth Detector.

I appreciate the fact that Rush has never endorsed a Republican candidate. I appreciate the fact that he did not want to alienate a loyal segment of his audience by attacking Trump. I appreciate the fact that he has been honest when he says that his first objective is to part his listeners from their money, which is a clever way of saying that he’s in radio to sell advertising.

I also used to appreciate the fact that Rush was the most vocal national advocate of conservatism for almost three decades. For me (and many other listeners), conservatism and Trump just don’t mix. I believe that Rush would have been perfectly in character if he’d gone after Trump the same way he went after Ross Perot in 1992.

In fairness, I think Rush was a stealth backer of Ted Cruz for a while, but he saw the writing on the wall. Unfortunately, by contorting himself in an attempt not to alienate one segment of his audience, he alienated purists like me.

For me, the death blow came to my inner dittohead when Rush told an angry caller, “I never took him seriously on this!” He was referring to Trump’s stated plan to deport illegal immigrants along with their American-born families.

Thanks for 25 years of informative entertainment, Rush. See ya.

Rush’s imitators such as Laura Ingraham, Mike Gallagher and Eric Mataxis leapt aboard the Trump Train without a backward glance. Others such as Hugh Hewitt, Dennis Prager and Mark Levin were more reluctant, but ultimately climbed aboard as well.

The only two hold-outs were Glenn Beck and Michael Medved, though both have understandably pledged their support to President Elect Trump in the last 24 hours.

All of these talkers once stood together with conservative thinkers such as Bill Kristol, Jonah Goldberg and Andrew McCarthy, forming a last ditch between conservatism and the ever-encroaching movement of liberal populism embodied by President Obama. But the post Trump era saw a fracture that widened until it de-evolved into a budding civil war, the full bloom of which was stayed only by the electoral result.

I don’t even want to address the giant paradox of the pro-Trump Christian movement. It makes my head ache and my heart cry. Sufficed to say, folks like Jerry Falwell Jr., Franklin Graham and James Dobson will have a lot of explaining to do to the big man when they get upstairs. But then…won’t we all?

In spite of, or because of, all of these various paradoxes, Trump won. In two months, he will be the 45th president of the United States. Then, all of America will witness the ultimate paradox. The man who promised to, “Drain the swamp,” will become its biggest alligator. Will he be effective, or will he be impeached? We’ll see.

Another irony…the slogan, “Drain the swamp,” was pirated from the Democrats. They used it back in 2006 when they recaptured Congress during George W. Bush’s second term.

As for me, I am now living my own paradox. I was part of the Never Trump movement and I stayed true to my conscience. I voted third-party two days ago. But now, I will support President Trump and the Republican coalition. It is yet another irony that the Republican and Democrat establishment, long derided by Trump supporters, may be what saves our country if Trump proves to be as volatile in the Oval Office as he has been on the campaign trail.

In the meantime, I believe that our country is going to be okay. Right now, reality looks a bit like a Rod Serling morality play, and I’m waiting for the twist ending. Until the eerie music kicks in, all we can do is live and laugh at our imperious leftist coworkers who are still crying two days later.

Sidebar: According to my friend Amy, that comment about imperious coworkers was a jab. Yeah…it kind of was. But there’s more to it.

Over a year ago, two of them sat in the kitchen at my workplace and prayed that Trump would be the Republican nominee. “We want Trump to win so we can keep the White House,” one of them laughed.

How’s that working out for ya, ladies? They wanted Trump to win, but now, he won.

Paradox.

One of them has been out sick all this week. Is she really sick, or is she spending her nights disrupting traffic on I-25? We may never know.

And yet, I can’t enjoy the full irony as much as I should, because I think we’ve all lost something along the way.

Still, when the big picture looks crappy, all we have in life are small pleasures. So, I’ll be out back with a cigar in one hand and a vial of Lisinopril in the other, waiting for America to become great again.